


One For Sorrow

by themirrordarkly



Series: New Beginnings [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Assassination, Blood, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Community: mcuflashmeme, Creepy, Dark, Ficlet, Flash Fic, Gen, Hydra are bad people, Introspection, Memories, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, POV Bucky Barnes, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Psychological Horror, Sad, Tokens, Violence, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6304618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themirrordarkly/pseuds/themirrordarkly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He kept them in a box, souvenirs--mementos. He didn't know why. They said the contents were his--a collection. He wasn't sure of the significance of it. All he knew it was his and they let him keep it.</p>
<p>**<br/>Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier</p>
            </blockquote>





	One For Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Одна — к горю](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391143) by [Kaellig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaellig/pseuds/Kaellig)



> Week 9: Write a creepy story
> 
> Prompt from http://mcuflashmeme.dreamwidth.org
> 
> I kind of failed at creepy, this turned out more angsty and sad. :( .I wrote this in about little over an hour after work in the food court when I was waiting for my ride. So pretty much--flashfic. Not betaed, of course. Warnings are in the tags.  
> *****
> 
> One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for silver, Six for gold, Seven for a secret, Never to be told.  
> *****

'One For Sorrow'

  


He kept them in a box, souvenirs--mementos. He didn't know why. Maybe to jar a memory--a memory he couldn't grasp. To remember a time, a mission, a face. They let him keep it, the wood, black lacquered box, stored away with his guns and TAC gear--let him open it and touch each item. The tactical feel against his flesh hand was comforting as he counted each one. A calmness settled in his bones as he sorted through the box. They said the contents were his--a collection. He wasn't sure of the significance of it. All he knew it was his and they let him keep it.

"Do you remember?" A handler spoke.

He picked up a brass button, flipping it between his knuckles like a coin. Not knowing why he knew how to do this, he just did.

"No." He shook his head. No, he did not, but it didn't stop him from looking in the box. Were there more items this time? He couldn't be sure. One, two, three, four--he counted until he had twenty-one. Maybe he could add another today. He had a mission.

An important mission. One he was worthy of, that no one else could do. His skills were needed for the good of mankind. Someone was going to die today. It was for the greater good. Chaos swept clean, evil eliminated with a flick of a knife or crack of a rifle.

It was almost child's play how easy it could be. It wasn't that he enjoyed it, it was that he was good at it. He took a certain pride in that. To be needed, to be the best. Child's play--if he could remember being a child or if he ever was one. All he knows he was born from pain and strife. Born to cleanse the earth with fire and blood--until they told him it was done. But it never was done. There was always one more enemy, one more purge.

So he went on collecting--one item at a time. A ribbon, a key, a coin, a ring--each memento was one small death in the larger scheme of things. But he wanted to remember each one, each face. To know they existed at one time like he exists now. But many times he could not recall, like his name. Others had names, he did not. Not really. It was his profession, soldier--asset. But not a name. He had just a number he could recall--3255. Was he one of many or the last of his kind? A dying breed. And he wondered.

***

The knife went deep, severing through flesh, tendons--a second smile--as the head flopped back, still attached by the spinal cord, the neck bones--but little else. The blood gushed thick, wet, sticky as he carefully dropped the woman to the floor. He used too much force on such a delicate throat, one he could have crushed with his weaker hand. He used the stronger one and the cut became deeper, longer for it.

Maybe it was that he wanted to hold the slender column of skin and bone in his flesh hand. To feel the fluttering pulse, the texture of silky skin-- which his other hand could not-- a blunt weapon of force, able to tell hot, cold or pressure but little else. Then the flood of warmth as blood had coated his hand.

Crouching down, he wiped his hand on her gauzy blouse--sheer and now painted dark red. His fingers touched her cheek, eyes still open--blank, bottle green--mouth parted as if to draw a breath, exhale. His hand closed her eyes--brushed at her ear. A small pearl dotted in red and he plucked it off, rolling the smooth, hard marble in his fingers-- white, red, pink. And dropped it into one of his pockets. Another token, another memory, another face.

Maybe he made this death more memorable, special, within perimeters, that he would recall it later. Maybe this time he would remember.

***

He opened his box. He always counted the items, each one.

"Do you remember?" A handler spoke to him.

He picked up a pearl earring. It wasn't clean, smeared in pink.

"No." He shook his head. No, he did not, but it didn't stop him from looking in the box. Were there more items this time? He couldn't be sure. One, two, three, four--he counted until he had twenty-two. Maybe he could add another today. He had a mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Song to listen to that inspired this fic:  
> In Boxes by Aurora Aksne (who has the voice of an angel and is my favorite new artist)  
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6kS65TbKjeU
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know if you like!  
> This is the shorter version; I'm working on a slightly longer version of this same story which will post at a later time when done. I'm on tumblr under starmaki.


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